“How the heck did you alter the program that much?” I poked a finger through the holographic display. “You better clean up after yourself this time.”
The [Messenger’s Pet] had set two spiders chasing me aflame. Even though I died it was worth the price of virtual food. Assuming he hadn’t broken the program enough to require restocking. I better disable remote access to my Atrium from family and friends. The last thing I wanted to explain was my new pet. A part-time miniature dragon was miles better than cats. Odd that no one had thought of putting one into the ARC online store. Maybe they couldn’t program something that complicated or it hadn’t been approved by the company. Cats went anywhere from fifty dollars on up, all for something that wasn’t real.
My first week off from work was nearly over. Time dilatation wasn’t set that high yet according to James. Consequently the game minutes were the same as real time. Henry Uldum had extended my one week vacation to two. That was useful I guess. My coworkers had sent me nasty messages about how I was cutting into their lazy time. None showed any signs of being aware that I picked up the Ultimate Edition.
Progress inside the program hadn’t exactly been stellar. All the events combined to put me on par with an entry level character. Only the event results seemed different. And one tiny dragon that was now wallowing in wrapping remains like it was catnip.
I sighed and walked outside for fresh air.
Each movement hurt. Those feedback bands were effective. Articles online explained the science away by reciting nerve ending activation signals. Comparing them to a real workout showed an almost ninety percent gap. Playing the game and exercising, however minor, was worthwhile.
An hour later, after I made it down to the store for supplies, I was ready to log in again. I spent a few minutes in the Atrium and straightened out the mess left behind. Post cleanup allowed me to see glass refreshing inside the cabinet and food repopulating on the shelves. My little dragon buddy hadn’t completely broken the Atrium’s programming. There were still two doors open, one to the dance program, and one to Continue. I hadn’t been able to touch the dance one since the strange possession of my fiancée’s image.
Continuing through Continue was the only real option. I stepped inside. The room was dark once again. Dim light brought attention to the middle where a familiar pillar and book sat open, waiting. James stood there, arms crossed, looking pleased.
“You made it!” James sounded surprised.
I glared.
“Were you upset?” He asked.
“I wasn’t happy.” I looked at the dragon that was pacing around on top of the book. “Thanks, little guy.” My small dragon pal hummed and did a few circles trying to chase its lengthy tail.
“That’s not a very good answer.”
“Yes.” I had been upset. The walk helped. Humming the a song from my dance program and imaging the motions put me back into a happier frame of mind.
“Very well. Your turn, Grant Legate.”
“Let’s fix that next.” I tried not to grind my teeth.
“You have the power to change things, Grant Legate, as I’ve told you before.”
“I need to pick a character name.”
“And write it down here.” James seemed to have everything already prepared. Part of me should be disturbed that my next goal was so easily read by a computer.
The thought of a character name had crossed my mind over the last few days. Specifically when James, or one of the other Voices, persisted on using my first and last name. The problem was that most of my game names from years ago were a few flavors of stupid. My past names include; television show characters, cartoon characters, comic heroes, and more. None of them seemed appropriate for a game like this.
“Second thoughts, Grant Legate?”
“Trouble deciding.”
“I’ve always found it interesting, the names your kind use. We had a girl who went by Sword Princess, but she prefers a staff. One man who called himself Shadow, among another fifty with the same name.”
“That sounds about right.” I bet Shadow liked to stealth around in-game and stab people in the back. Mysterious I’m sure. Forty of the fifty were probably utter jokes and half a poser each. “I don’t know what to pick for myself.”
“Other players name themselves after fantasy lives they’ve built. Some chose heroes or people they aspire to be. Great names in your world, founding fathers, names that mean powerful things.”
“None of that sounds like me.”
“What kind of experience do you want to have within our world?” James asked.
“I want a dis…” I started to explain.
“A distraction. Yes. Is life in your world so terrible?”
I stood over the book, quill in hand, small dragon rolling around in boredom and decided how to answer. James often asked inane little questions but sometimes he poked the tender spots too.
“No. Not really, James. Too familiar sometimes.”
“Familiarity is bad?” He questioned me.
“Reliving the past is painful,” I said.
“Yet you dance with a false image of your deceased fiancée, and indeed have danced with her for over a year now.” James poked at my emotional wounds. I hadn’t actually told him that she had passed. I rarely let myself admit it. Hearing it out loud was like a punch in the gut. Part of me would welcome the giant spiders right about now.
“You crave a distraction. You focus on work with an almost zealous fervor, so much so that your manager forced you to take a vacation.” He had clearly done his homework when accessing my ARC.
“James.” I clenched my eyes. The man had found something truly painful to ask about. Yet it wasn’t even the asking, it was laying it all bare. When I did it the situation was under my control. My terms. When someone else did it everything felt so much more real and painful.
“Here you are, on the verge of a new world. You can choose to reinvent yourself, to throw caution to the wind, yet you can’t even decide a new name.” James said.
“It’s not that easy.” I protested.
“Really? Tell that to a father who walks away from his family. Tell that to a person who quits their job without a moment’s hesitation. To a drugged up woman who chooses another high over their child.”
“I haven’t done any of those things.”
“So? Those are merely examples, Grant Legate.” James almost spat the words. I wanted to be mad, but the only thing in my vision was that stupid quill and a blank space. “Your world and ours both allow people these chances, however right or wrong. Anyone can walk away and reinvent themselves.”
“It’s not that easy to be someone different.”
“Bah. People are who they choose to be, every moment of every day defines them. You’ve defined yourself as a workaholic who can’t let go of the past. Why?”
“Because…”
“Why, not, let, go?” Each word sounded like a drum.
“Because I don’t want to let go!” I yelled at the black man.
“Then be distracted. Pick a name. Visit another world. Be someone else and maybe you’ll find something else to hold onto.” He remained unruffled by the shouting.
“I don’t want to let go of her.”
“She’s already gone from your world.” James’ words hurt.
I was beyond painfully aware that she was gone. Identifying her body was a pretty clear indicator. Her parting hadn’t been slow or peaceful, no, our separation had been swift and sudden. Even now it felt like an open wound that only stayed together with duct tape and prayer. And what did James mean by gone from my world? Dead is dead. I spun on the other man.
“What are you saying? Is that some clever hint? Is this some messed up trick relating to how she came to life over there?” Four words, gone from your world, had sent me into momentary rage. The disturbing moment of realism in my dance program hadn’t been caused by a system update. “Is she in your world somehow? You owe me answers.”
“Not exa
ctly, Grant Legate.”
The bottom of my sanity dropped even further.
“Not exactly what?” I spat the words back at the large black man. He seemed indifferent to the anger.
“She’s not exactly in our world.”
“Explain that, James. Explain what the hell that means or I’ll shove this quill up your ass!” I took a step towards the computer program and he didn’t even flinch. His face didn’t change from the stern, button-lipped expression.
“We can’t explain it, Mister Grant Legate.” There was a little girl behind me. She was the same youngster who took Maud’s charge before. “We have rules.”
“This isn’t some fucked up ploy is it, to, to, to.” To what? What might possess a computer to try and mess with any human to this extent? Happy place, I had to get back to my happy place. I tried to remember the opening chords to a waltz.
“We do not rely on smoke and mirrors to entice people to visit our world. You either choose to or don’t.” James said, still standing in the same spot, but slightly turned towards the other Voices.
“Is this some fucked up Ultimate Edition thing?”
“Yes and no. We might never have noticed you without your proof of ownership. However, these types of things are common for anyone who attracts our attention.” James answered a question with some actual detail, finally. It also explained why I had a trait for [Divine Attention].
“Then what is going on?” Alien plot? Crazy theory on the afterlife? Alternate reality? No, that wasn’t fair, the name ARC stood for Alternate Reality Capsule. My job with Trillium had been going on for over a year now. No way did these things combine into a portal or anything that strange.
“Give me something, James, or I’ll walk away and delete this stupid thing. Ultimate Edition, whims of the universe, and my boss be damned.”
“I cannot do that, Grant Legate,” He said.
“Why not?”
“Because I am not allowed.”
“Are you saying my fiancée is in this stupid game?” I tried to focus on the issue bothering me.
“No.” He sounded firm and absolute. “Your fiancée is dead.”
“Then what’s going on?” I waved my arm in anger.
“Tut. Something of her is still here.” Another voice came out of the darkness. I turned and saw a small light over Maud’s tired body. She gave an empty smile.
“You do not have permission to interfere,” James said.
“We make the rules, James, you know that. Tut. You owe Mister Grant Legate an answer, by your own deal you’ve fallen behind a ways.” Children spun in and out of existence around her. Some looked happy, others sullen.
“Ah.” There was a pause while James ordered himself and did a mental count. “I suppose I have fallen behind.”
I wanted to rip all the pages out of this stupid book and pull the tiny dragon’s tail to start a fire. I would bend the creature over like a flamethrower and torch every last piece of material.
“I can perhaps trade many little owed answers for a chance at a bigger one. None of us are allowed to fully explain, but I can show you if you wish to detour.” The room suddenly got a lot more cramped and things spun. It felt like time compression had kicked in at a high degree. This was more than four to one. My perception of the digital world about me slowed to a snail’s pace.
Voices, all the Voices, were talking about this situation.
“That would be good,” Maud affirmed. “You’ve my approval.”
“Sounds amusing. I always did have a soft spot for the old goat.” The Temptress was nearby. All I noticed besides her voice was a brush of fingertips. They slid across my cheek from behind and a bout of desire surged.
“He can’t handle filling that man’s shoes. He can’t even hold in his own piss!” Drill Sergeant yelled across the room, reminding me of the lack of self-control giant spiders had induced upon me. Spittle still cleared the distance.
“I’m against it.” The Drill Sergeant said prior to fading out.
“Let Mister Grant Legate do it.” The young girl’s voice was next. Her face almost hidden behind a book she raised like a shield towards the Drill Sergeant’s former presence.
Silent and angry faded in. She still wore the same white flowing dress and little sign of anything else. Her eyes looked off into the distance and her head shook back and forth slowly. What were they voting on? Could computers vote on something to do with me?
“Do it. Everyone deserves a chance.” The man in the duster faded in. He rattled something around in his hands. A woman hung over his shoulder and seemed to be looking down her nose at me with an indifferent expression. The dress hugged her curves all too tightly.
“What…” I tried to ask.
“I don’t know.” The Jester clacked. It appeared behind the two Voices of chance, they frowned and faded away. The mask seemed darkly teasing as always. “These visitors are such fickle creatures. You want him to play a part, but is his heart able to be someone else?”
“…is…” My next word was stuttered and slow compared to the Voices’ speech. Even the Jester’s clacking voice made more sense than I did.
“I think Grant Legate desperately wants to be someone else. We give him a stage, a face, and hold onto the role a little bit longer.” James said with a serious expression. He seemed so frumpy next to the Jester mask.
“And we cover it up?” The Jester said.
“…going on…” I ground out the words.
“Yes. Provided he does well enough. A fitting end, another moment more would be enough to send him forth with something greater than a whisper in the night.” James answered.
“And would he approve?” For a moment if felt like the Jester was glaring straight at me while he spoke. Maybe he was. His eyes held only darkness and that smile never left. The Voices kept on talking while I tried to move forward.
“Based on my observations, yes.”
“And Mother?” The Jester asked.
“Has she ever disapproved of our actions?”
“We only function as we were created. Isn’t that right, James?” Jester’s tone always seemed mocking. Though an exact impression was impossible. Its words were very similar to Hal Pal’s in that way. Robotic, passive, this Jester was clearly not human.
”You’ll explain it?” Maud was still nearby and sounded apprehensive. Distant cries of children leaping around her filled the empty air before fading off.
“In a way that makes sense.” James responded.
“Good. I have my role, but even I would not tarnish his ending.” The Jester said.
“So you approve?”
“Yes.” A smiling mask haunted my slowed vision as it faded away.
“Then we have a majority.”
“…here?” I finally got the last word out when light flashed and time abruptly sped back up. They had done all that taking while my mind crawled through the mire. I fell forward while trying to reach out for James.
All the other Voices had left the room. The pillar and book were still present. Even the little dragon seemed undisturbed. James was looking off into the distance and seemed uncaring as I pulled myself up. Everything felt uncomfortable and my head spun.
“I’ll explain in a moment, Grant Legate.”
“I need a better name.” That was the first thing out of my mouth. Not demanding answers, only being annoyed. James played me like a fiddle.
“Eventually, yes. For now, I have another offer.” James turned and crossed both his hands over his belly.
“Yeah. I guessed something was up.” Not that I was clear on the finer details. There were a lot of questions floating around my brain, but James had basically stated he was using them all up for this proposal.
“Would you like to know more?”
“Sure,” I said dryly. Clearly the demands uttered forth from my mouth weren’t blunt enough. My patience was nearly saintlike to suffer through this without trying to strangle the man. Or AI, or Voice, whatever.
&
nbsp; “One of our longtime denizens has ceased to function properly,” James said.
“Someone from your world.” I tried to focus on my calming techniques. Step one, respond to the question at hand, don’t stress about what’s happened before. Step two, look forward. Step three, think of something that made me happy, such as music and dance.
“A very well-known figure. Mostly retired, he was quite famous decades ago.”
“And he’s dead.” I said.
“Effectively. Death in our world holds many meanings.” That made sense. A computer probably had a much different concept than humans.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“We’ve decided to offer you a unique chance to view our land. Would you like to see something no one else from your world has?”
“If it gets me answers, sure. But I’m still not clear on what you actually want.” I wasn’t focusing right anyway. Part of my mind was trying to recall the feet placement for a brisk beat. The pop and lock movements of high tempo music were still a bit awkward for me.
“We are willing to let you choose to take up his mantle for a limited time. To be precise, four weeks of our time. One week in your world.” James said.
“You want me to be someone from your world, who died?” My head drew back and one eye squinted slightly with confusion.
“In essence, yes.”
“That’s strange.” Beyond odd actually. The Voices wanted me to pretend to be someone else? How on earth would this lead to an answer about my fiancée? I had nothing else to go on. James wasn’t going to answer my question. Once the man said no, he stuck with it. Only harassment from the other Voices had even gotten us this far.
“Will you?” James, ever the questioning man, asked. I had a hard time seeing any downside. Pretending to be someone else would be an interesting distraction.
“I’ll get help, right? I can’t act as someone else without information.”
“Yes. You’ll receive information about his life as you interact with the world, much the same as any others who travel to our world will.”
“I guess.” A chance to understand this world more? To understand exactly what this mystery was surrounding my fiancée? Sure. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”
Continue Online (Book 1, Memories) Page 14